


Blessings and Curses

by jeezbees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Witcher AU, With my own spin on it, Work In Progress, but not a ton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeezbees/pseuds/jeezbees
Summary: Byleth is a world-renowned witcher who is absolutely not paid enough for this.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	Blessings and Curses

Byleth may be a kickass swordswoman, a curse-breaking expert, and a renowned monster slayer, but she’s terrible at keeping her guard up. The webbing woven tightly around her struggling body serves as a testament to her lack of attention.

“Note to self,” she murmurs, staring down at the floor from her webbed sling on the ceiling. “Don’t trust pretty women with mandibles.” She huffs out a breath as she looks down, searching for a glint of silver among the bone-strewed rubble. Byleth moves her eyes quickly; Nothing, nothing… _There!_

Her silver sword lays against a far wall along with the rest of her equipment. It looks like the Arachne was less than gentle with her things, as there’s a puddle of potion spreading underneath her bag. Byleth clicks her tongue in annoyance.

And then she hears the telltale clack of chitin on stone.

She curses and starts to move. The sling begins to swing back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster as the clack of the Arachne’s approach grows louder. Byleth is almost going wall to wall now, and she can feel the web at her feet fraying, just a little more-

The web gives with a _snap_ and Byleth flies across the room. She sees stars as the back of her head slams into stone and she crumples to the floor. Still blinded, she hears a malevolent hiss, and rolls to the right just in time to avoid something sizzling.

“You can spit acid?” Byleth rolls again as that same sizzling substance is shot at her. She blinks and quickly makes out the massive shadow that is the Arachne, as well as her silver blade on the other side of the monster. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Die, witcher!” The Arachne hisses.

“Well alright then.” Byleth rushes the monster. She dives between the massive spider legs, rolls tightly across the floor, and comes up next to her discarded equipment. She grabs the hilt of her silver sword as the Arachne spins around and hisses.

Byleth laughs and swings her sword.

“This isn’t what we agreed on.”

The ealdorman grunts. “Had an emergency while you were gone, can’t pay the full price now.”

Byleth looks up from the paltry sum in her hand and narrows her cat eyes. “An emergency?”

The man sighs and scratches his neck, his gaze darting away from Byleth’s glare. “Empire bastards, collecting taxes. This is all we have left to give.”

Byleth’s eye twitches. “So, you’re telling me that I risked my life killing a murderous spider woman, who spat _acid_ , for fifteen gold?” She gestures to the sizzling head of the Arachne, a beautiful human woman aside from the deadly sharp mandibles and wiry spider hair. “Your town’s safety is worth less than a baker’s dozen?”

The ealdorman sighs again. He spreads his hands wide and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, if I could give you more I would, but we have to trade.”

Byleth’s eye twitches again. She reaches up to her sword.

“Wait, wait!” The man steps back, hands up and shaking. He clears his throat. “You said the monster spat acid? There might be someone who can take the parts, buy them from you.”

“Someone?”

“An alchemist. He’s new ‘round here, keeps to himself, but he’s got the coin.” He tugs at his collar as sweat drips down his face. “He’d be interested in monster parts.”

Byleth grunts and puts her hand down. “Where is he?”

The ealdorman points a shaking finger towards the setting sun. “East of here, a little bit into the forest.”

Byleth exhales quickly through her nose, then points a finger at the ealdorman. “You’d better hope you don’t need a witcher any time soon. This,” she shakes the coin pouch again before putting it on her belt, “Is ridiculous.” Then she turns on her heel, monster head in hand, and marches East.

The sun has almost set by the time that Byleth reaches the cottage. It sits only a little deep into the forest, up a winding gravel path and across a shallow creek. It looks homely, with smoke coming out of a cobblestone chimney and little blue flowers planted around the front. Wood chimes clack in the light breeze as the croaking of toads starts to fill the evening.

Byleth sniffs the air. Fire, flowers, and tree sap. The wood of the cottage must be freshly cut. The ealdorman wasn’t lying about that part, at least.

Now to see if he was lying about the rest.

Byleth adjusts her grip on the Arachne head and knocks on the front door. She hasn’t even put her hand down when the door quickly opens and a woman with pink hair pokes her head out.

The woman sees Byleth and sighs. “Darn,” she mutters.

Byleth lifts a brow and clears her throat. “Are you the alchemist?”

The woman squints. “Do I look like the alchemist?”

Byleth sighs. “Never met him, but I guess not.” She lifts the dripping monster head up to face level. “Look, will you pay me for this or not?”

The woman’s mouth opens in a small “o”. “Is that acid?”

“Yep.”

“From an Arachne?”

“I was surprised too. Please pay me for it.” Byleth jostles the head and the mandibles make a disturbing click-clack noise.

The woman wrinkles her nose. “Let me get you a bag and you can come inside.”

“Whatever it takes,” Byleth mumbles as the woman goes back into the cottage.

Once the monster head is safely hidden, and the alchemist’s carpets protected from acid, Byleth is allowed inside. The interior of the cottage is just as homely as the exterior. A pot of something fragrant bubbles over a fire and little glowing crystals light what the fire can’t reach. Byleth touches one and the heat of the magic inside tingles her hand. _Strange_ , she thinks as she looks at her hand.

“So, I guess you’re a witcher?” The woman sets two full bowls of that stuff in the pot down at a simple table.

Byleth doesn’t even think before she pulls out the chair and picks up a spoon. “You guess correctly,” she says around a mouthful of carrot and potato.

The woman giggles. “You’re not as scary as people say you are.”

Byleth swallows her stew. “Believe me, I’m plenty scary.” She clears her throat and sets down the spoon in her hand and reaches across the table. “My name is Byleth.”

“I’m Hilda.” She grips Byleth’s hand in her own and gives a remarkably firm handshake. “I was wondering when you’d remember to introduce yourself.”

If Byleth could blush she would be bright red. “It’s, uh, been a long day. Sorry.” She gets back to eating her food and Hilda follows suit. They sit in silence for a moment as the both eat before the silence is broken again.

“The ealdorman didn’t pay you, right?” Hilda tilts her head to the side, her spoon pointing at Byleth.

“How did you…?”

“Well you wouldn’t be here if he had given you a good price. This cottage _is_ in the middle of nowhere.” Hilda shakes her head and glances to the side. “I wish he’d live in some city. The forest is _creepy_.”

Byleth clears her throat. “The ealdorman directed me here when he couldn’t give me the correct payment. He said the alchemist would pay for monster parts.” She glances at the bag with the monster head inside and then back at Hilda. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

Hilda sucks on her teeth and shakes her head. “You came here at probably the worst time if you want to see him. He left for Fhirdiad yesterday. I’m just house sitting for him.” Her gaze never wavers from Byleth as she puts another spoonful of soup in her mouth.

Byleth feels a headache coming on. “Can you pay me for it?”

Hilda hums. “No, he took his coin with him.” She eats another spoonful of stew as she watches Byleth.

Byleth closes her eyes. _Do not lose your temper, do not lose your temper, at least you get dinner for tonight._ She takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out. She opens her eyes and stares at Hilda. “Will you take fifteen coins for the rest of this stew?”

Hilda giggles, then puts her head down as her shoulders shake, then leans back in her chair and lets out a large belly laugh.

Byleth scowls.

Eventually Hilda calms down. She wipes a tear from her eye and giggles one last time. “Oh, you’re so cute. How about this: I give you the stew for free and you do a favor for me.”

“A favor? I’ll need to hear the details before I agree.” Byleth crosses her arms.

“Of course!” Hilda stands up from the table and walks to a cluttered desk on the other side of the cottage. Her pink pigtails conceal her face as she digs through the piles of papers, but eventually she finds what she’s looking for. She comes back to the table with two bulging envelopes in her hand.

“I’m not a courier,” Byleth immediately says. She’s played this game before. Couriers tend to get hurt. A lot.

Hilda clicks her tongue. “No, no! One of these is for a friend of mine,” She holds up the thick, lumpy envelope, “and the other is for the alchemist.” She holds up the thin envelope and shakes it in Byleth’s direction. “I’ll tell you where he is if you agree to deliver this for me, and then he can pay you for whatever monster parts you have.” She hums. “He might even mix you some potions. He’s good for that.”

Byleth raises a brow and leans back in her chair, arms crossed. She considers this for a moment, staring at the envelopes, before she looks back up at Hilda. “I don’t have a horse. It’d be weeks before I made it to Firdiad.”

“Then you can take one of mine.” Hilda points out an open window towards a wooden structure a little further in the woods. “My brother sent me here with too many.” She rolls her eyes.

“Too many-?” Byleth shakes her head and uncrosses her arms. “You’re sure the alchemist will pay for parts?”

“Yeah, he loves that gross stuff.” Hilda hands the letters to Byleth. “The big one is for a woman named Marianne, and the little one is for the alchemist, or Claude.” She points out the window again. “You can take the spotted one, his name is Acheron.” She moves quickly to the stove, picks up a few metal containers, and starts shoveling the food inside.

Byleth stands up and shuffles her feet. “Um,” she says.

“Please take the nasty monster head with you!” Hilda points at the sack, which is now leaking.

Byleth dutifully picks up the sack and then stands by the door. She watches Hilda bustle around the cottage, stuffing the metal containers in a leather bag along with the two letters. Byleth’s head still hurts, but now she’s just confused.

“Alright!” Hilda hands Byleth the bag and claps her hands together. “Marianne has a house in Fhirdiad, really cute, has the same blue flowers as this house in the front. And Claude…” She tilts her head and puts a finger to her mouth. “I don’t actually know where in the city he is. He didn’t tell me.” She shrugs. “Ask around in the inns for Raphael, that’s a friend of his. Raph might know where he is or know someone else who does.”

“Gee, I hope I find him,” Byleth mutters.

Hilda makes shooing motions with her hand. “Out, out! Get started so you can make it to Fhirdiad before the solstice festival. Things will get way busier around then, you probably won’t even be able to get into the city around that time.”

Oh shit. Byleth had forgotten about that. “Right.” Byleth nods, swings the leather bag up on her shoulder and marches out the door.

Hilda shouts one last thing at Byleth. “Please tell Marianne not to worry!”

Byleth lifts a hand in acknowledgement and goes around the cottage to saddle up. Ten minutes later, the hooves of her new horse pound down the road to Fhirdiad. Byleth looks at the stars, cat eyes narrowed in thought, and thinks of all the future profit she’s got coming. If this Claude will pay her for parts, she might get enough coin to get new boots.

How exciting.

**Author's Note:**

> Be gentle with me, dear readers. It's been too long since I've written.


End file.
